fish a day keeps the doctor away"; to review the current
issue of _The Journal of the Fisheries Society of Japan_, containing
leading articles on "Are Fishing Motor Boats Able to Encourage in Our
Country" and "Fisherman the Late Mr. H. Yamaguchi Well Known"; to
combat the prejudice against dogfish as food, a prejudice like that
against eels, in some quarters eyed askance as "calling cousins with
the great sea-serpent," as Juvenal says; to call attention to the doom
of one of the most picturesque monuments in the story of fish, the
passing of the pleasant and celebrated old Trafalgar Hotel at
Greenwich, near London, scene of the famous Ministerial white-bait
dinners of the days of Pitt; to make a jest on an exciting idea
suggested by some medical man that some of the features of a
Ritz-Carlton Hotel, that is, baths, be introduced into the fo'c's'les
of Grand Banks fishing vessels; to keep an eye on the activities of our
Bureau of Fisheries; to hymn a praise to the monumental new Fish Pier
at Boston; to glance at conditions at the premier fish market of the
world, Billingsgate; to herald the fish display at the Canadian
National Exhibition at Toronto, and, indeed, etc., and again etc.

As general editorial roustabout, to find each week a "leader," a
translation, say, from _In Allgemeine Fishcherei-Zeitwung_, or
_Economic Circular No. 10_, "Mussels in the Tributaries of the
Missouri," or the last biennial report of the Superintendent of
Fisheries of Wisconsin, or a scientific paper on "The Porpoise in
Captivity" reprinted by permission of _Zoologica_, of the New York
Zoological Society. To find each week for reprint a poem appropriate
in sentiment to the feeling of the paper. One of the "Salt Water
Ballads" would do, or John Masefield singing of "the whale's way," or
"Down to the white dipping sails;" or Rupert Brooke: "And in that
heaven of all their wish. There shall be no more land, say fish"; or a
"weather rhyme" about "mackerel skies," when "you're sure to get a
fishing day"; or something from the New York _Sun_ about "the lobster
pots of Maine"; or Oliver Herford, in the _Century_, "To a Goldfish";
or, best of all, an old song of fishing ways of other days.

And to compile from the New York _Journal of Commerce_ better poetry
than any of this, tables, beautiful tables of "imports into New York":
"Oct. 15.--From Bordeaux, 225 cs. cuttlefish bone; Copenhagen, 173
pkgs. fish; Liverpool, 969 bbls. herrings, 10 walru